


Bail

by roseforthethorns



Series: Retirement Bliss? [4]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Memories, Retirement, Skyfall, Swearing, drinking to numb and forget, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 08:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8364991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseforthethorns/pseuds/roseforthethorns
Summary: Just because they've left MI6 doesn't mean they've left the memories behind.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [timetospy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/timetospy/gifts).



> Angst and hurt/comfort ahead

Q storms into the police station, his coat clutched around him. His face is very pale and his lips pressed into a thin line as he growls out James's name and fills out the paperwork the cops hand him. Once it's all taken care of, the bobby brings him back to the holding cell where his fiancé sits.

James looks horrible. His eyes are bloodshot, the blue streaked and rimmed with red. He has a shiner developing around his right eye, a cut lip that's stopped bleeding, and his face is covered in a thin sheen of dried sweat. His clothes look like they have dried blood on them as well.

“Paid your bail. Get up.”

Q’s voice is soft and even but far too controlled. He stands perfectly still as the guard unlocks the door to let James out. Bond stands and follows Q on unsteady feet as they head for the car. The younger man gets behind the wheel and waits for James to get in and do up his safety belt. The drive back to the cottage is dead silent. Neither one of them speaks the whole way, not a grumble or a muttered threat or insult. The lights are on in the house when they return as Q hadn't bothered to shut them off in his haste to reach the station.

He's out of the car and at the door before James can follow, and he waits impatiently for his lover, locking the door behind him. “What the hell was that?” He snaps once the door is closed.

James doesn't look at him. He just picks up the scotch bottle and pours himself a large glass and drains half of it in one go.

“So this is it then. You're going to be a drunk and not talk? It's like we never left Six.”

Bond glances at Q, taking in his shallow breathing and wild, angry eyes. “You wouldn’understand,” he slurs as he takes another sip.

“Try me. Because if you pull this shit, then we’re done.”

That gets James's attention. He stares at Q, and the younger man can see the panic there. “Simon-”

“Is it another excuse? Getting smashed and starting a bad enough bar brawl to land yourself in jail? Please explain it to me because I want to know. I want to know if the man I'm going to marry is going to die of alcohol poisoning before I can fucking get to him-”

“It's the anniversary,” James says. Surprisingly, that's not slurred, but the man looks infinitely sad now. Q’s positive he's never seen James look sadder in his life… except…

Oh. _Oh_.

“I'm a fucking idiot,” he murmurs. Q walks slowly toward James with one hand outstretched. “God… fuck, I'm such an insensitive prick…”

“Five years,” Bond says quietly as he stares into the scotch glass. “Five years ago she died in my arms.”

Moving so as not to spook James, Q slips out of his jacket and shoes before resting his hand on James's arm. Still moving slowly, he gently removes the glass from James's hand and pulls the older man into a hug. Q strokes James's hair and holds him securely. “I know it hurts, love,” he whispers. “Let it out. It's okay.”

“I could have saved her. Should have. Should have checked her the moment I suspected she'd been shot. It's my fault…”

“No-”

“It is. She died ‘cause of _me_. Everyone dies ‘cause of me.”

“I'm not dead. I’m very much alive.”

“For how long?”

“Hopefully until I die next to you of old age you daft git. We aren't at Six anymore. You're no longer _the_ James Bond. You're engaged now. You're retired. And you have me.”

Something must snap inside James because he clutches at the back of Q’s shirt and begins to sob. He buries his face in Q’s shoulder and cries thick, hot tears that soak into the fabric. His lover doesn't pull away; he just stays there and holds James until the tears abate.

“Let's get you water and a shower. We don't even have to sleep. I'll even patch you up.”

***  
Half an hour later sees James and Q curled up on the sofa with one lamp on and Turing curled up on James's chest. Q has his arms full with holding James and making sure he's drinking enough water to avoid a hangover (or worse). The moon is fairly bright, almost full, and it bathes the Welsh landscape in a silver glow.

They don't speak. Sometimes James mumbles a memory, something M said or did that has stayed with him all these years, but mostly he's silent. The tears are intermittent. He doesn't try to leave though. He just lays there in Q’s arms, holding their cat, while the memories consume him.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and comments welcome!


End file.
